Ella
by WeasleysWizardingWheezer
Summary: They died to save a life. A life that would some day affect them all.
1. Chapter 1

A story always begins with 'once upon a time', but we all know that those stories always end with 'and they lived happily ever after…' This is not our story. In those stories, there is always a happy ending, but what if this story never has a happy ending? Would you read our tale? Would you read Ella's tale? Maybe Ella's tale will mean something to you in the end or maybe it won't. But perhaps if you read on Ella's tale will mean something to you. So I will begin, as all stories must, with once upon a time.

Once upon a time, the whole of Alagaesia was a peaceful place, protected by dragons and their riders, and for a while that's how it stayed. Until one day a rider and his dragon turned on his brothers, and one by one destroyed them all. The rider, Galbatorix claimed his hold on Alagaesia, turning many of the villages into his fortress. The most feared of all was Uru'baen. Galbatorix made his fortress high and feared. Nobody dared question him. Nobody but the Varden. This is where our story begins.

Deep within the walls of Uru'baen two fearless elf warriors snuck about the streets. Their hoods were drawn up over their faces and the taller of the two carried a small bundle of black fabric in his arms. Their feet made little noise as they skittered down the streets towards the exit. They knew that if Galbatorix found out about this they would surely be killed. But they were already endangering themselves by being within the walls of Uru'baen. The two hurried towards the gate and the taller of the two hid the bundle deep within his cloak. The gates of Uru'baen were still open to allow the remaining troops to pass through the walls. This was their chance. Acting as casually as they could, they walked out of Uru'baen without so much as a questioning glance from the guards positioned just outside the gates. Once they were a safe distance away, the taller elf produced the bundle from his cloak and they carried on down the road.

"We should make haste, Ruvaen." Said the other elf, she removed her hood and looked at the male elf. "We know it will not take Galbatorix long to discover-"

She was cut off as a piercing roar echoed around them. The pair took a glance back at Uru'baen. That sound could only be of pain, the pain that a dragon would feel from his rider. Their pace quickened dramatically, although they already knew the Shade, Durza would be following their counterpart Arya, they were not sure whether Galbatorix himself would take flight for this matter. Their elf speed carried them to the turnoff where they had stored their horses. They released their horses from the ties and the female elf mounted her horse quickly. But the Ruvaen grabbed her arm. He handed the bundle to the female elf who stared at him as if he had gone mad.

"You must not trust me with this, Ruvaen." She said.

"We both know that we will not escape together, Merethyl." He said glancing back at Uru'baen.

"What are you talking about, of course we can." Said Merethyl. She looked hurt that Ruvaen would even suggest splitting up. "We know Durza is after Arya, we will have time, Galbatorix never leaves Uru'baen, you know that."

"I'm serious, Merethyl. Take it and go. It will be for the greater good. For the sake of Alagaesia, go."

"Ruvaen…" Said Merethyl pleadingly, she didn't want her counterpart to leave her. She trusted him with her life, she didn't know how she would survive without him.

"We knew when we accepted this that one or both of us wouldn't return. It has to be me." Another roar emerged from Galbatorix's fortress and Ruvaen reached up and touched Merethyl's face. "Time to go." He slapped the horse on the rump and sent it on its way. Merethyl looked back at Ruvaen, despite her feelings for him she knew that she must go. She had to for the sake of Alagaesia.

Ruvaen watched the horse and rider disappear into the blackness, he turned on his heel and mounted his own horse. He knew by now that Arya would have got the egg to its destination. He knew that what he was doing would make sense in the future. There was a chuckle behind him and he turned unsheathing his sword as he did so.

"Quaint, very quaint." Muttered the Shade. "Shame your friend will go down like, Arya did."

"You will not harm her." Said Ruvaen defiantly as the red headed Shade advanced on him. Durza chuckled raising his hand at the elf who charged at him his blade held high.

Many years in the future, miles away, a girl woke screaming because of an elf and a red headed demon.

* * *

_I hope you liked the beggining of my story. Please review :)_


	2. Chapter 2

Merethyl had managed to get as far as a small village called Carvahall before she realised she was being followed. She had abandoned the bundle at a small farm house, just on the outskirts of the village. She brushed back the cloth that enclosed the bundle and smiled down at the sleeping baby girl.

"You hold the fate of us all, little one." She muttered. "Many will die for you, Ruvaen was the first and he won't be the last. May your sword stay sharp." Merethyl muttered a blessing in the ancient language and disappeared from the barn. I would like to say that Merethyl got to a sanctuary, but I'm afraid I cannot. She did indeed join Ruvaen in death but she was glad that her task had been done.

* * *

Ella woke with a start. For nights now she had been dreaming and each time she would see a red headed man with gleaming red eyes. What frightened her most was the fact that she wasn't herself in the dream, she was seeing through the eyes of someone else. She pulled back her shoulder length brown hair into a loose pony tail and headed out into the field to watch the sunrise. _Perhaps_, she thought to herself, _Eragon will return today_. Ella had always been told that Eragon was her brother; she did however become suspicious overtime, as she bore no resemblance to him whatsoever. Whereas Ella's hair was dark brown, almost ebony, Eragon's was more of a sandy colour. Never the less, she still referred to Eragon as brother when they greeted one another.

For the past week or so, Eragon had been out hunting in a forest area just south of Carvahall called the Spine. His hunt would have to sustain Ella's family throughout winter as they lived five miles outside of the centre of Carvahall. Ella feared for Eragon while he was out hunting in the Spine, she had only ever heard ghost stories about that place, these all swirled around the fact that it was the one place that king Galbatorix didn't hold claim over. It was once said that one of his armies perished within the haunted wood, but of course Ella didn't believe it because Eragon always came back safe and unharmed. But this time she had a bad feeling about the Spine, like something was stirring in the deep.

There was a slight frost on the ground when Ella emerged from the wooden hut that she called home, a slight fog curled around the trees at the edge of the forest and the icy wind nipped at Ella's face. After she had watched the horizon for some time for the return of her brother she turned her attention to her chores. It was Ella's job, being the only female in the household, to tend to the two horses, Birka and Brugh, sometimes Ella would even look after the pig, but this year they had little money to look after a pig. Ella groomed the two horses, before individually taking them out for a ride, she still kept a steady eye on the horizon for any sign of Eragon.

As the day turned into night, Ella bade farewell to the horses and returned back to the house. Sometimes she wished that she could accompany Eragon to the Spine, but her Uncle Garrow forbade it. Her cousin, Roran would say that he cares for her too much to let her go, but at fifteen Ella didn't think of herself as a child anymore. Ella could tell that her Uncle Garrow was on edge lately, this winter was meant to be very harsh and eventually it would take its toll on them if the traders didn't arrive soon.

During Eragon's trips to the Spine, Ella would often stay up late into the night and wait for his return, this night was no different. It must have been early morning, because Ella had been dozing up against her window when she heard the shutter on the front door come unlatched. She heard the hushed whispers of Garrow and Eragon, she heard of a heated argument between Eragon and Sloan the vile butcher in the centre of Carvahall and of the meat that Horst the blacksmith had kindly brought them. This sent her Garrow into a rant about not accepting charity but it suddenly went silent and Ella strained her ears to listen.

"Besides," said Eragon. "I found something that could be worth some money."

There were more whispers which were inaudible to Ella's ears, so she gave up eavesdropping and crawled under her covers. She could say hello to her brother in the morning, nothing was going to happen between then and the first rays of sunlight that would drift over the valley.

* * *

"Wow, it's beautiful." Said Ella, as she first cast eyes upon the mysterious stone that Eragon had found in the Spine. "Do we really have to sell it, Uncle?"

"Of course we do." Garrow said bitterly. "Such a childish question, that thing could be worth a lot of money."

"It'll be worth nothing unless the traders come." Grumbled Eragon. "I've already said, when people hear it's from the Spine they'll want nothing to do with it. Look at Sloan's reaction."

"Yeah, but Sloan's a moody ol' goat." She commented. "What if it's an egg, Uncle? What if the traders don't buy it? Can we keep it then?"

Garrow grumbled a response and sent the three of them out into the field to finish harvesting the barley. It was strange, the traders were never usually this late, they would always turn up just before the worst of winter arrived. The days passed and winter grew harsher, Ella wondered if they would have to accept charity from the people in Carvahall during this winter. Until on the eighth day after Eragon's return, he bounded back into the house with news of tracks leading down to the centre of Carvahall. Ella loved when the traders arrived, during the day they would sell their produce and buy their goods for the winter. Then at night they would all gather round the campfires and listen to the tales. Ella's favourite were told by a man named Brom.

Brom had lived in the village all Ella's life and although his tales were old, for they had been told for many years, Ella loved them none the less. She enjoyed listening to the times of Dragons and their riders, of the times before Galbatorix ruled and there was peace throughout Alagaesia. Some people thought that Brom was crazy, Ella thought he was brilliant.

After a hurried breakfast the family packed the barley and other produce into the wagon and attached Birka and Brugh to the front before heading out to the centre of Carvahall. It only took them half an hour to reach the centre of the bustling village but shouts of delight could be heard way before that, the traders always had that effect on the people of Carvahall. Garrow took Eragon and the strange egg to a jewellery seller whilst Ella roamed around the stalls browsing through the array of items that were scattered on stalls. Many times throughout her walk she heard several people talking in hushed whispers.

"Urgals, that's right. Burning villages, what for I don't know."

Ella didn't know much about Urgals but what she had heard was that they were foul monstrous brutes who worked for Galbatorix. They had black horns atop their heads and were every bit as sluggish and careless as a troll. Carvahall had always been safe from Urgals, because it was situated between the hillsides nobody had seemed to take any notice of the small community and to be honest Ella hoped it stayed that way.

After dinner at Horsts, Ella, Eragon, Roran and Garrow headed towards the bonfire where Brom and others would tell their stories. Only minutes after they arrived, the old storyteller stepped from a tent and sat himself down in front of the bonfire. Ella settled down next to Eragon and silence fell as Brom began his tale.

"The sands of time cannot be stopped. Years pass whether we will them or not… but we can remember. What has been lost may yet live on in memories. That what you will hear is imperfect and fragmented, yet treasure it, for without you it does not exist. I give you now a memory that has been forgotten, hidden in the dreamy haze that lies behind us."

Brom always began his tale this way, it made Ella only keener to hear his tale, although she had heard it many times before.

"Before your grandfathers' fathers were born, and yea, even before their fathers, the Dragon Riders were formed. To protect and guard was their mission, and for thousands of years they succeeded. Their powers in battle were unmatched, for each had the strength of ten men. They were immortal unless blade or poison took them. For good only were their powers used, and under their tutelage tall cities and towers were built out of the living stone. While they kept peace, the land flourished. It was a golden time. The elves were our allies, the dwarves our friends. Wealth flowed into our cities, and men prospered. But weep… for it could not last."

Brom told next about a young Rider named Galbatorix who, although young, exceeded other riders in skill and power. Galbatorix took a reckless trip with his dragon and there he was ambushed by Urgals and his dragon was killed. Galbatorix, however, managed to escape, and there he wandered without his dragon. He returned to the Riders, and demanded another dragon. When he was refused, he felt that it was the Riders fault his dragon was killed, so he took matters into his own hands.

The story then turned to when Galbatorix met a young Rider named Morzan. Galbatorix convinced Morzan to leave the gate at Ilirea, which is now Uru'baen, unlocked. In the dead of night Galbatorix entered and stole a dragon hatchling. He then took Morzan and together they hid where no riders dare travel, the place where Morzan began his dark apprenticeship. When Galbatorix's dragon was fully grown, he and Morzan revealed themselves to the world, killing all the riders that stood against them. In the end only twelve riders joined Galbatorix and they became the Forsworn.

Brom finished his tale with the story of Vrael, an elf rider who stood up against Galbatorix and was killed by him. "And from that day, he has ruled us."

Ella wished someday the Riders would return. She wished one day that that old tyrant would be knocked off his perch and would suffer for what he had done to his own.

Over the next few weeks Ella noticed that Eragon had become distant, he would often spend hours outside but each time he would return with a gleaming smile on his face.

"What are you hiding, brother?" Commented Ella, one night.

Eragon truly loved Ella like any brotherly figure would, but what he had discovered, what he had done may put Ella in danger, and he didn't want to do that to her.

"Patience is a virtue, little sister." He smirked as Ella huffed. She would find out what he was hiding. Even if she had to go out and do it herself.

The next day, Eragon and Roran went into town, leaving Ella and Garrow alone at the farm. This is it she thought as she pulled on her cloak.

"I'm just going to tend the horses, Uncle." She called closing the door behind her.

Ella set out over the hillside that she had seen Eragon venture over so many times in the past few weeks. The fresh snow didn't leave any tracks but she thought if she scoured the woods long enough, she would find what she was looking for. The twigs cracked under her shoes as she ventured deeper. Ella pulled her cloak tighter around herself and walked on. She glanced to her left then to her right but noticed nothing strange except for a large house like structure made out of wood.

Ella had never known her brother to be interested in craftsmanship before so she walked slowly forward before she reached the entrance. Bending down on her knees she looked into the structure. _Just a little house, that's all_ she thought to herself. That is until two piercing blue eyes stared back at her and a growl echoed within the structure. Ella jumped backwards and landed in the snow as a puff of black smoke floated out of the doorway. She watched as the eyes moved forwards, slowly coming into the sunlight.

The creature was almost as big as Ella whilst she was sitting; it had sapphire blue scales and a long neck. Its wings stretched out as it emerged and it wiggled its talons on each of its four feet. The creature bared its teeth which were all pearly white and razor sharp. Ella gulped and scuttled backwards further as she stared into the eyes of a dragon.

* * *

_I hope you liked this chapter. Just a little note: in chapter one Arya was not retrieving the sapphire egg she was sent out as an allibi so Ruvaen and Merethyl could escape. _

_Thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed it :)_


	3. Chapter 3

"Whoa, steady…" Said Ella, she held her hands out towards the dragon protectively as she spoke. "I'm not here to hurt you."

The dragon stopped in its tracks and surveyed Ella. It tilted its head to one side and then started forwards again. Ella closed her eyes and pushed her hands further out in front of her. _Hopefully you_ _don't breathe fire_ she thought. Ella felt the scales rub up against her hand and she opened her left eye. The dragon was rubbing its head up against her palm and looking up at her with beady crystal blue eyes. Ella laughed as her nerves crumbled away; this dragon wasn't dangerous at all.

"You're not that bad are you, little one?" She said. The dragon gave something between a purr and a growl which made Ella laugh. "I'm Eragon's sister. Did he find you here? Are you lost?"

Ella mentally scolded herself. She was talking to a dragon, and she expected it to talk back. _Don't be so silly, she probably can't even understand what I'm saying._ There was a snort and the dragon, to Ella's surprise, shook its head.

"You can understand me." Gasped Ella, she scratched the dragon under the chin and smiled. Then a thought came into her head, a crazy thought. It can't be possible. "Is Eragon your Rider?" Another snort and slowly the dragon nodded.

"So that's what he's been hiding! I can help feed you and train you… Although, if Uncle Garrow finds out then he'll go mad… He'll go mad if he finds out I'm here… But will you be okay on your own if I leave you?" Another nod… "I'll bring you some food, I won't be long."

Ella got to her feet and waved as she darted out of the woods towards the house. This is amazing she thought. _A dragon, a real live dragon in the forest by the house… And it's Eragon's dragon! Brom's stories are right; the time of the Dragon Riders will come again!_

She fetched several cuts of meat from the house, wrapped them up and hid them in her satchel. Uncle Garrow was out in the field so she would take Birka out as well so she had an excuse for going out. Ella mounted the horse and headed back into the woods to find the dragon. At first Birka was a little apprehensive being around the scaled creature, but with a little coaxing she grazed just behind Ella while she fed the dragon.

* * *

Ella spent the whole day with the dragon, apart from heading back to the house to switch horses so her uncle never got suspicious; she never left its side. It was almost dark when Ella heard a rustling heading in her direction. The dragon's head perked up and Eragon strode into the clearing. At first he didn't see Ella sitting on the ground, but his features turned from calm to shocked as he saw her.

"Ella!" He almost yelled. "What are you-?"

"It's your dragon, Eragon!" She exclaimed cutting him off. "You're a Rider, don't you know what this means?" She rose to her feet a gleeful smile plastered on her face.

"Ella, does Garrow know?" Asked Eragon.

"No, I haven't told him. I haven't said a word."

"Then it has to stay that way." Said Eragon. "Not a word to anyone, not even Roran."

"I swear I won't say a word." She smiled down at the sapphire blue dragon and scratched its head. "She needs a name."

"How are you sure it's a she? I think it's a he." Said Eragon. "Brom gave me loads of names, why don't we see which one _he_ likes."

Many names later, and after constant badgering off Ella to get him to pick some girl names, Eragon finally gave in and accepted that she had to be a girl. They settled on the name Saphira which the dragon and Eragon seemed to like.

That night at dinner Ella held her silence although she did want to tell Roran about Saphira. The conversation turned as Roran announced that he would be taking a job at a mill and moving out. Ella was distraught, she didn't wish her cousin to leave but he argued that he had to in order to have enough money to marry Katrina.

Katrina was Sloan's daughter, and Ella highly doubted that Sloan would have any idea about this marriage. Sloan definitely showed hatred to anyone in Ella's family and he would flip if he found out that Roran was going to propose to Katrina.

Ella had hoped that her Uncle would forbid Roran from leaving for he had certainly expressed his distaste for any of them moving away, so it came as a shock when he gave Roran his blessing. For Ella, this day was the best and worst of her life.

Two weeks from that day Roran was due to leave, it was hard on everyone especially Eragon. In the days leading up to Roran's departure Ella noticed that he was becoming more distant than when he had hatched Saphira. Although Ella would accompany Eragon to visit Saphira he would hardly talk to her. He only answered her questions about the dragons and relayed what Brom had told him previously. Ella had an idea that the old storyteller would be suspicious of Eragon's questions. In time she hoped that they could show Saphira to Brom, but Eragon was very dismissing about it.

That day the three of them travelled into town, Roran was due to meet Dempton, the man who had employed him and set off. Ella hadn't noticed that Eragon had slipped out the back with Horst but when he came back in she could tell by his face that he was hiding something.

"We have to go." He whispered to her whilst Roran's back was turned.

"Leaving so soon?" Asked Roran. Eragon nodded, his face was more concerned than solemn. "Well, I guess this is goodbye for a while then." The pair embraced and then Roran turned to Ella. "Look after him, Ella."

"I will, Roran. I promise." Then they left. Ella noticed that the blacksmith Horst was watching them leave. Eragon kept glancing around him expecting someone to follow them through the shadows.

"Eragon, what is going on?" Said Ella, she wrenched herself out of his grip and stood in the middle of the street.

"I can't tell you here but we have to go." He said urgently, he went to grab her again but she moved out of the way.

"I'm not moving a foot until you tell me whats going on!" She stated. Eragon huffed and tried to remain calm.

"Someone is after Saphira." He said dropping his voice to a whisper, "and I have to find out who, come on."

The pair kept to darkened parts of the streets, they stayed out of sight from everyone and dared not make a noise. Eragon was scaring Ella, she had never seen him so worried before, she wondered if the migration of the Urgals had anything to do with Saphira's hatching. They just rounded the corner when Eragon pushed Ella back against the wall and held his finger to his lips.

"About three months ago," Ella recognised the voice as the butcher, Sloan. For a moment everything was silent then a voice, fouler than Sloan's echoed through the air. It made Ella's breath catch in her throat and she dared not imagine what foul thing this voice belonged to.

"Are you sure?" It said, the words were elongated to hisses as it spoke which raised every hair on Ella's neck. "We would hate to think that you had made a mistake. If that were so, it would be most… unpleasant."

There was a scuffling and then several moments later two figures stepped into the street. They wore black cloaks with the hoods drawn up tight over their faces. Their backs were hunched and they wore leather gloves over their hands. Ella somehow didn't think these were men, or Urgals, they had to be something much more foul. Ella felt Eragon move beside her causing a slight scuffling at the ground beneath them. One of the figures grunted and then they both turned, Ella gasped as the creatures eyes bore into the two of them. They sank into crouches and no matter how badly she wanted to Ella couldn't move, it was if fear had simply rooted her to the spot. The things began to move, as if they were stalking a prey, they were close now, closer than Ella really wanted them to be. Their hands reached their sides…

"Eragon!" There was a hiss as the creatures froze in place. Ella knew that voice; it belonged to the old storyteller, Brom. "Eragon!" Another hiss and the creatures disappeared into the darkness. Ella let out a ragged breath and swallowed the saliva that had been building in her throat. There was a dull thud as Eragon collapsed next to her.

"Eragon!" Cried Ella, she sighed when she realised her brother had not in fact passed out. He seemed merely to be in shock. Suddenly Ella felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned around eyes lit with fire.

"You leave him alone!" Brom stared back at her like she had gone mad and for a moment Ella also felt she would collapse from stress.

"Now, now, I mean no harm." Said Brom, he turned to Eragon and surveyed him cautiously. "You look sick; is all well?"

Ella surveyed the pair as Brom suggested that Eragon was becoming sick, but Ella knew that the storyteller was smarter than that, he knew something was up, she could feel it.

"You'll recover," said Brom as Eragon lied to him about the result of his collapse. "But perhaps it would be better if you went home."

"I think you're right, maybe I am getting ill." Said Eragon. He swayed slightly when he got to his feet and Ella offered a hand but he dismissed it.

"In that case I will accompany you and your sister down the road." Eragon nodded and the three of them began walking back through Carvahall. Ella walked ahead of Eragon and Brom, she glanced around for any sign of the creatures that she had seen only minutes before. Ella heard the two behind her chattering, or rather Brom was chattering, Eragon was only offering responses when necessary. They reached the end of Carvahall quickly and Brom gave them a quick farewell. As soon as they were sure Brom was out of sight the pair began sprinting towards the farm.

"What were those things?" Panted Ella as their feet crunched over the gravel.

Eragon shook his head, "I don't know, whatever they are they're evil. I have to go to Saphira, get to the farm and stay there."

Ella nodded and they parted ways, Eragon rushed over the fields his form disappearing into the trees as Ella rounded the path to the farm. There was a flicker of a candle in the window and a shadow met Ella's eyes. She raced up to the door, maybe she could warn him and they could flee into the forest to Eragon and Saphira. Ella raced up the path and went to hammer on the door when a bloodcurdling yell came from inside the house. There was a hiss of those creatures she had encountered previously and Ella scrambled round the back of the house just before the door was blasted off its hinges. She knew there was no way she could make it across the field to get to Eragon in time so she made a beeline for the barn. There was another bang as the house was engulfed in flames and Ella supressed a yell. She scrambled into the barn, climbed high up into the rafters and pressed herself in the corner.

Ella bit on her hand as the door to the barn opened. Pushing herself as far into the corner as she could she waited and prayed that they wouldn't find her. Several frantic minutes passed, the creatures searched the barn, made the animals scatter and hissed frantically when they couldn't find what they wanted. _Why are they looking in here?_ Thought Ella, _surely if they are after Saphira they would know she would be too big to hide in the barn._ Then it hit her, they were not searching for Saphira but for the egg from which she hatched.

There was something like a tremendous squeal of pain, a pain of not finding something, and then the creatures disappeared out of the barn. Ella let out the breath she had been holding and began to lower herself down from the rafters, when a light lit up the barn and a deafening bang echoed in the night. The next moment the roof of the barn was falling, Ella was falling and then darkness engulfed her.

* * *

_Ella: Oh, yeah just crush me with a barn, very original..._

_Author: Oh, don't fuss yourself, i wont harm single hair on your head._

_Ella: Yeah, if there is any hair left by the time its finished smouldering in that burning barn!_

_Author: Please review so i can get her out of the barn and shut her up._

_Ella: ¬¬_


	4. Chapter 4

Galbatorix paced his throne room impatiently, his black cloak billowing behind him with every stride he took. Every few moments he glanced around at the huge black doors that lead out into his castle. He scowled, his eyes flashing red for a moment. _Incompetent beasts_, he thought, _what takes you so long?_ It had been months since he had sent the Ra'zac out to retrieve the dragon egg that the elves had so cleverly stole out from under his nose. Now only two eggs remained, two eggs that were now protected even more than usual, if that was even possible.

The King turned back to his coal throne and sank into it. A large scaled head poked out from behind a red silk curtain. The black dragon Shruikan eyed his faux master with thought; he had never seen his master so anxious before. _Good_, thought the old dragon, shielding his thoughts so his Rider couldn't reach them. Shruikan glanced around as he heard the padding of footsteps along the distant corridor.

_Someone approaches_. He said, opening his mind to Galbatorix. The King glanced up, eyeing the great black doors as a meek knock echoed throughout the almost empty room.

"Enter," He sneered, watching as the door creek open slowly. A small messenger boy appeared in the doorway, he bowed low, trying not to shake in the presence of his King.

"They return, My Lord," He said shakily, bowing after he did so and exiting the room as quickly as possible. Shruikan snorted which earned him a piercing glare from his master. Soon after, Shruikan heard more footsteps approaching the throne room. He knew who they were, for he could smell them before he saw them. The Ra'zac.

The beasts entered quickly, not bothering to announce themselves, however they did bow low as they came to the foot of the throne.

"Ssssireee," they said together, their cloaks drawn up high over their heads. "We have acquired a flessshhling that you requesssted,"

"And the egg?" Asked the King impatiently.

"There wasss no egg, the flessshhling only accompanies the Rider. She would beee of use, Ssssireee."

Galbatorix was not pleased, in fact he was somewhat furious at the beings that stood before him. _Why do they waste their time coming to me if they have not retrieved the Rider?_ He questioned.

_Perhaps_, said Shruikan, _the human they bring is of use. She could be used to bring the Rider to you, did you think of that?_ Shruikan took on a mocking tone as he spoke but Galbatorix didn't seem to notice, his eyes were lighting up with glee. Of course, it would be so easy for him to bring the Rider here with bate! He mentally cursed himself for being so overlooking of the details.

"Good work, my friends." He said, standing, an evil smile plastered on his face. "Bring her forth, we must speak."

With a hiss, the smaller of the Ra'zac scuttled from the room, returning moments later with a struggling human girl.

"Let me alone!" She cried, "You let me alone!"

The Ra'zac pushed her forwards letting the King catch a better glimpse of his captive. She was small, with pale skin, and brown hair that was matted with parts burnt. Her clothes were scorched and she wore no shoes, her feet were black with mud and soot. The Ra'zac let go of the struggling girl and she tripped falling on hands and knees in front of the King. She looked up her sparkling green eyes showing naught but fear at the sign of the King.

"Hello, child," He greeted, coating his voice with sugar. The girl merely looked back down at the floor; she had no intention of speaking to the King. "Do you know why you have been summoned before me?"

Silence.

"It is rude to not address your superiors," He said kindly, rising from his throne. "I'll give you a clue to why you are here…" The girl looked up, her eyes still glistening but now with unshed tears. This, according to Galbatorix, meant that she knew exactly why she was here.

"You were found at the home of the person who stole something very precious to me, do you know what this person stole from me?"

Another moments silence was broken by the girls small voice, "N-No, I do not know… Sir."

"Well then, do the words: dragon egg, mean anything to you, girl?" The flinch was involuntary but Galbatorix noticed it, he had been through too many interrogations to miss this tiny give away.

"N-no Sir, they do not." It was then, at this small act of treachery that the King exploded.

"DO NOT LIE TO ME!" He yelled, causing the girl to recoil. "I KNOW THAT YOU KNOW ABOUT THE EGG! I KNOW YOU KNOW WHO TOOK IT! AND I KNOW YOU KNOW WHERE THEY ARE!" His shouts echoed off the walls, the Ra'zac had already recoiled to the far side of the throne room, leaving the girl alone in the centre with the King advancing on her trembling form.

The King advanced, yanking the girl up by her hair, she squeaked with the sharpness of pain that jolted through her skull, but her eyes showed defiance and bravery, two things that Galbatorix couldn't stand to see in his enemies.

"Tell me where they are and I will let you leave," he hissed, causing the hairs on the back of the girl's neck to stand on end.

"No," she said. "No I will not tell you where they are, I will not betray my family. Not even to see them again." Loyalty, noted Galbatorix his eyes flashing red at the girls defiance.

"So be it," he muttered, releasing the girl's hair.

_She would make a fine attribute to the castle_… Said Shruikan, _perhaps as a servant? No?_

_Silence, Shruikan!_ Galbatorix said harshly. _I have a better plan for the girl, but first I must gather my information. _

Galbatorix looked down at the girl, a snarl forming at his mouth, he knew exactly what he was going to do with the girl, and he would make sure the Rider knew about it in good time. But first he must acquire the information he needed. Cracking his fingers for effect, he pushed out his mind to reach the girls, the infiltration was easy.

"_Come back here!" The girl yelled chasing after a small blonde boy, with a wooden sword. "Ery! Come back here, lemmy play with the sword!"_

_In the distance Galbatorix saw the girls home, a small quaint farm house. There was a woman sitting outside on a stool knitting as the two children ran about fighting over the wooden sword that could cause little harm to any man. The girl tripped, scraping her knee on the gravel and Galbatorix felt the girl recoil from the memory of pain. It was then that the boy came into view again; he put his hands to her face wiping away the tears and gravel that coated her clothes. Something else pulsed within the girl then; love. A foreign emotion to the King. _

The memories flashed forwards, with each one he discovered he also erased them from the girls memory causing her screams to bounce around the throne room. He kept searching, kept erasing, until he reached what he had wanted. The dragon, it had hatched and how it had grown! There was still one thing that he was searching for, one thing that he could not find. _A name! Give me a name!_ The King cursed. Her screams increased as he pushed into her mind as far as he could go, and yet the King couldn't find a name. _What magic is this?_ He cursed, erasing the last of the girl's memories before jolting out of her mind. With a shattered cry the girl slumped to the floor, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow.

"Take her to the tower, have her healed." Said Galbatorix sharply. "Then send her to work, we will catch this Rider yet…"

* * *

**I'm sorry i haven't updated in ages! And i'm sorry this chapter is so short, but i can't wait to get onto the next chapter which will be longer, so i'm guessing that this is just a filler xD **

**Please review :) **


	5. Chapter 5

Six days. That's how long I'd been here, or that's how long I remember being here, wherever here is. I don't remember how I got here, or who I was before I got here. It seems strange not knowing who I am. Is that even possible… to forget entirely who you are and where you have come from? The only thing I really know is that I am here to serve the King in whatever way I can. Whether it is by cleaning the castle or cooking, but there is something different about my stay here. In the six days that I remember I know that I don't share the same quarters as the other servants of the castle and I receive better meals than they do and the King has requested that I learn basic fighting skills, although I don't understand why, it isn't well thought of for a lady to fight or at least that is what I hear.

The morning sun glints over the top of the shadows of the forest, until six days ago I don't remember seeing anything as brilliant and beautiful as the first rays of the morning sun breaking the shadows of the forest into crystals of green. Rising from the chair that allows me to sit and watch this spectacle I pull on my boots and head out of the room that has been my domain for six days. Six days… Does somebody remember me? Are they missing me? Have I anyone to be missed by or am I as lonely as the last autumn leaf on a bare oak tree?

The halls of the castle are empty, as per usual at this hour of the morning. Nobody that resides this high up in the castle is awake until way after dawn has broken, and even if they are awake before that I hear or see naught of their presence. I tiptoe past the other black doors that line the hallway, I wouldn't like to wake anybody up at this hour anyway, but it's more the fact of what would happen to me if I did wake anyone up. In my short time here I have already seen the wrath that some of the people on this floor bestow upon unlucky servants that get in there way. If I have learnt anything from my time here it's, be seen not heard and if you can help it don't be seen either. That's why I like getting up this early, I get some time to myself before the sword lessons and the work, a time where I can ponder things and try… just try to remember.

I hurry down to the kitchens where some of the servants are already up preparing breakfast; I slide out of the back door and out into the grounds where the stables are situated. The grass is speckled with drops of fresh dew which dampens my boots as I walk across the grass. If the castle wasn't behind me this place would be peaceful, but the giant blackness that is the castle, in my opinion ruins the landscape. Like scorch marks on a beautiful dress that you can't get rid of.

The horses are out grazing in the paddock when I arrive; on my first day here I was allowed to stay out here with the horses. Why? I don't know. The King simply requested that I get used to the place and not ask questions. In my eyes the best way to not ask questions is to be by yourself so you have nobody to talk to. So that is what I did. The only company I had for that day was the horses, and they couldn't answer my questions. Of course they couldn't, they cannot speak to me, although on that day I wish they could have.

I climb up onto the first piece of wood on the fence and lean into the paddock. At my presence the black horse on the far side of the paddock looks up and trots over. I don't understand why it's decided to come over to me, as far as I have observed horses are rather timid animals. I feel sorry for them sometimes, worked to the bone, ridden for sport and enjoyment when they could be free. I wonder what it's like to be free. I wonder what it's outside of the castle. Is the sun as beautiful beyond the forest as it is here?

The black horse stopped just short of the fence, flicking its mane to the side in one swift motion. I stretched my hand out and stroked the side of its face; it snorted in what I think was contentment. Climbing up so I could sit easily on the fence I continued to stroke the horse's mane.

"Do you have a name?" I whispered to the animal. I didn't expect an answer… that would have been stupid. It just stared back with dark unwavering brown eyes. "I think I had a name once… I know, it sounds silly, doesn't it? Not being able to remember your name. I bet you can remember your name, I bet if you were able to talk you would be able to tell me yourself. But you can't talk, just as I can't remember my name."

The horse whinnied tossing its mane again as if it understood what I was saying. No, that's silly; animals can't understand what you're saying. It turned then, as if bored by my company, and trotted back off into the middle of the paddock to join the other horses. Maybe he was content here; maybe I should be content here. It was kind of the King to let me stay here; he could have just easily turned me away. I should be grateful for his hospitality and not mope about who I was. Although, I do wish I know who I was. I let out a sigh and drop my head into my hands.

"Why can't I just remember?"

"Do you always talk to yourself like that?" I don't turn to the voice as I don't recognise it from the kitchens. Seen not heard… seen not heard… but he didn't seem that bad, well his voice didn't make him seem bad. I still don't reply I keep my head in my hands. I hear the creak of the wood fence as whoever it was climbed up to sit next to me. "Are you okay?"

It seemed sincere enough, that simple question asking me if all was well. Still, if this person was important talking to him could get me into trouble, though I'm sure it wouldn't… I pull my head from my hands and take a breath glancing round at the paddock and the black horse grazing in the middle.

"I'm fine," I say turning my head to look at who I was talking to.

He was tall, at least six foot by my calculation as he towered over me even though he was sitting on the fence, with midnight black hair that came just to his chin. His eyes were as dark as night, similar to those of the horse in the middle of the field. The boy, no man, for he was certainly older than I must be, wore simple clothes. A tunic and breeches with leather boots that laced up his shins, a small dagger hung at his belt.

"I see you've taken a liking to him," He said, meaning the horse. I glance down a small smile forming at the corners of my mouth; I'd forgotten what it was like to smile.

"Yes, he is quite a magnificent animal." I say, swinging my legs in a rather childlike fashion. "Is he yours?"

"Aye, he is mine. I've had him for as long as I can remember." It felt nice talking to him, although I don't know who he is. He seemed nice. Well the nicest person I had met in my six days anyway.

The sun had almost fully risen over the forest now, the dew could easily be seen glinting in the early morning rays of this glorious god of light. Another horse joined the black one in the paddock; it lifted its head to the morning sun and shifted its hooves on the emerald grass that it would soon consume.

"I haven't seen you before," he noted, glancing down at me.

"Nor I, you," I say, "Perhaps it is due to my short time here, I've seen naught nor spoken to anyone since my arrival."

"Well then, I should introduce myself properly." He said an amused smile at his lips. "I am Murtagh,"

"It's nice to meet you, Murtagh. I'm… Oh…" I glanced away from him, cursing inwardly at my memory loss; I have no name to give him, no way to repay him for giving me his.

"Is all well?" Again another question for my well-being, he seemed more concerned about me than anyone I have ever met, or remembered meeting.

"Yes, I…" I stopped and took a breath. "Forgive me; it may seem foolish but... I do not know who I am."

A hearty laugh escaped Murtagh; in fact he almost found it so funny that he nearly slipped from his perch on the fence. I however didn't find it funny, not at all. Unless of course he thought that I was joking with him, in which case I was not.

"That does sound foolish," He said composing himself. "Although, it is not entirely impossible,"

"I am sorry," I say, hopping down from the fence. "I am wasting your time with introductions if I cannot even supply you with a name of my own."

He seemed aghast at my reaction and he too jumped or rather stepped down from the fence to join me in the paddock.

"No, don't go. I didn't mean to offend… you really don't remember anything?"

We talked until the noise of castle residents met our ears. During this time I explained to Murtagh everything I remembered from my six days at the castle, and how it could be possible that I didn't remember anything of who I was before that. He listened unquestioningly to my ramblings; it was good to have someone to talk to all of this about instead of the animals that didn't supply reasonable reasons for my situation. In turn I listened to a short account of Murtagh's life here; he had lived at the castle all his life although he refrained from telling me about his childhood. Instead he told me about what he did here. He, unlike me, didn't do servant work, but he did train with the sword and bow like I did. It seemed a little amount to have in common, but I was glad for it.

"Why don't you give yourself a name?" He asked, as we walked back to the castle so I could begin my kitchen work and Murtagh, his sword training.

"I feel it would be a betrayal to who I was… I don't want to do that; I would like to know what my name was because it must have fit me if my family had chosen it. I wouldn't want to banish the only thing that still connects me to them." Murtagh nodded understandingly as I opened the door to the kitchens.

"So what do I call you until you recover your real name?" He asked leaning up against the wood of the door. The smell of fried meats wafted from the kitchen making my mouth water at the scent.

"Girl!" The head cook yelled at me from her post, she sent me a scathing look over the vegetables she was chopping.

"Just call me Girl." I say, to which he nodded.

"I'll see you later then, _Girl_." He said, smiling, he turned and headed off to the sparring field.

"Farewell, Murtagh…" I say scurrying from my post at the door to the hustle and bustle of the early morning breakfast run.

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_I must say i really like this chapter... What do you think of Ella losing her memory? I thought it was a good idea at the time, but i want to know what you think. Anyway, i was listening to Fix You by Coldplay as i wrote this and i think it really helped xD _

_Well then, i'll see you in another chapter xD Please leave me a review if you feel like it :)_


	6. Chapter 6

By the end of breakfast I can say that I was extremely grubby and thick with grime from cleaning the stove in preparation for lunch. I know the castle holds a large number of people but it always seems a hugely extravagant meal for the first of the day. After I had finished cleaning the stove I hurried back to my room to change into the sparring uniform that the King had his servants tailor for me. I then scurried back down the halls avoiding everyone until I was in the open again.

The sun had fully risen now, the grounds of the castle were bathed in rich greens and yellows, the caws of birds could be heard somewhere beyond the clouds. The grounds were almost empty but the clatter of swords could be heard just over the hillside. I didn't train with the other soldiers; they wouldn't have liked it if I did anyway. Not like I mind of course, I enjoy my sessions with the swordsman, Tornac.

Tornac held his lessons just to the east of the main sparring field where the noise of the others wasn't so profound. I was early today, so I took my time gathering my bow and sword from the weapons barn that lay just to the west of the main field. Ducking my head low as I walked through the barn I quickly belted my sword and slung the bow over my shoulder with a fresh set of goose feather arrows.

Strolling back out of the barn I noticed the warriors who were training. Some of them had to be around my age or even younger, why was Galbatorix sending them out to war at such a tender age. One small boy could hardly lift his sword. I hurry across the grass towards where Tornac and I have been practicing. I don't think I could have dealt with the teasing of the others if they realised I was practicing to fight, although I would like to show them what I was made of, and then maybe they wouldn't laugh so much.

As I came up to the east of the training fields I was surprised to notice that there was not one but two silhouettes cast against the landscape darting furiously around with swords drawn. I've never seen Tornac with anybody else before so I don't want to get in their way whilst they are practicing. I sit at the side-lines just far enough away that I can't see their features but close enough to observe their battle strategies. Tornac's moves are graceful and strong, filled with all the elegance of a morning wind. The other, he is certainly stronger than Tornac and slightly faster too, but Tornac can still block and parry his opponents' blows with ease. They dance, swords slicing through the air at one another until in a last resort the man facing Tornac slices his leg through him, causing Tornac to fall backwards. A dirty trick, but it worked and I couldn't help but stifle a giggle as my trainer is helped to his feet by the victor.

It was then that I noticed Tornac and the other glance over in my direction. Tornac waved me over casually inviting me into our session. I pick up my bow that I had dropped beside me and walked over to the two who sheathed their swords almost in perfect synchronisation. I walk over quickly, almost tripping in my haste; I enjoyed my previous lessons with Tornac they truly are incredible. I fidget with the buckle on my belt as I walk over to them only then noticing the face of the man who was battling Tornac, it was Murtagh.

"Girl?" He said sounding a little shocked. "You didn't tell me you trained with Tornac,"

"It must have slipped my mind," I say, a smile breaking onto my face. "Good day, Master Tornac." I continue addressing my teacher formally.

"Good day, Lady." He replied, "Murtagh, why do you call her so?" Murtagh explained his reasons quickly, earning a small chuckle from Tornac as he finished.

"Sticking to your roots, eh, Lass? That shows good heart," he pondered in thought for a moment scratching the stubble on his chin. "But we must not continue to address you thus; I think a name is in order."

It didn't matter that I protested to this, I didn't mind them calling me Girl, or Lady or Lass. It would seem strange to have a name. A name that wasn't really my own anyway.

"You should pick a name, Lass." He said, making Murtagh smirk. It was strange for he had said the same thing to me only this morning. I think he was enjoying my comfortableness at this situation.

"A babe cannot pick their title; I don't see why I should be any different to a babe, Master Tornac." It was a wise statement, something so wise had never spouted from my lips before; therefore I was quite proud of myself. Tornac too seemed impressed.

"Let me ponder a name over our lesson, Murtagh would you care to observe?" Murtagh nodded, seemingly because he had nothing better to do since he wasn't a servant and therefore didn't have a real duty at the castle.

Tornac drew his sword, and in turn I drew mine. Without hesitation he lunged catching me momentarily off guard but I still parried his blow, lifting the sword without struggle to block his oncoming attacks. I tried to keep my focus on the task at hand, but I couldn't help my eyes wandering over to where Murtagh was sitting watching mine and Tornac's exchange keenly. Tornac lunged again, this time I was too late to block so I spun out of the swords way instead, gripping the sword for another onslaught.

"Good!" Appraised Tornac, he swung his sword nimbly between his fingers. "Now you attack!"

I waited for a second, gripping the sword tighter, the metal becoming harder to grasp the more the fatigue took to my arms. And then I lunged, Tornac blocked easily, as any good swordsman would, and countered which I was not expecting. We continued this way for almost an hour, taking small breaks when I needed them. Tornac seemed impressed with my skills, although I don't remember where I had acquired them from Tornac was helping me hone them.

"Fantastic work!" Said Tornac, sheathing his sword at the end of our session. "I've never seen such skills performed by a Lass,"

I was glad of Tornac's praise; it brought a smile to my face. I sheathed my sword and gathered my bow and quiver of arrows from where Murtagh was sitting.

"Thank you, Master Tornac. I am grateful for your assistance with my training." I say, "Although, I have yet to master the skill of the bow."

"Yes, but patience child and it will come." He says, "Murtagh, I hope you were paying attention throughout Enya's lesson." I jolted at the use of the name, it seemed foreign to me. Enya…

"Enya, Master Tornac?" I ask tilting my head a little to the side. I certainly wouldn't have considered that name for myself, for I had never even heard of it until now. But if Tornac had picked it for me it must be a good name.

"Yes, it means little fire. Quite suiting I think." He smiled, and so did I, it was a nice name. Enya… I could get used to that. "Now, off to the shooting range with you, I'm sure you will be accompanied."

He meant Murtagh, I know he did because who else could he have meant, it would be nice to train with Murtagh. At least I would have someone other than Tornac to talk to.

"Yes, Master Tornac, thank you." I say dipping my head in thanks to my master. "Good day,"

"Good day, Enya." He said with a chuckle before Murtagh and I departed for the shooting range.

The two of us walked in silence to the archery area, which was also reserved for separate training, today it was my turn. If the archery area wasn't taken up by my training I would sit and shoot at the trees by the paddock.

"You fight well," Said Murtagh as we walked up to the hillside which held the targets,

"Thank you," I say, fidgeting with the feather of a single arrow I held in my grasp. "So do you, although your method today did include some unnecessary trickery." He guffawed at my statement showing a toothy grin.

"Your methods were almost the same as mine," He laughed. "Twisting out the way of an attack instead of blocking like you should."

"It's better than dying," I countered, slinging the bow from my shoulder and knocking an arrow. "I would rather spin out of an attack and suffer minor damage than be slow to counter and suffer excess damage that could result in something worse. Anyway, my actions showed intuition."

Taking a breath I lined myself up with the target waiting for a reply from Murtagh that never came, instead he was watching me just as he did with Tornac. I pulled the bowstring back, the feather tickling the side of my face. Upon releasing a breath my fingers came loose of the bowstring and the arrow flew from the bow, slicing through the air but missing the target by miles. I sighed in frustration.

"Stupid archery!" I cursed, "I was never any good at you!"

"Enya!" Called Murtagh, from where he was standing.

"What is it, Murtagh?" I sighed, frustrated at my inability to hit a large target. "I know my archery is poor but-"

"No, did you hear what you just said?" He asked, placing his hands on my shoulders and looking directly at me.

"Yes, I said that I'm not very good at archery, what of it?" Murtagh groaned and shook my shoulders.

"No, you fool." He said, "You said, 'I _was_ never any good at you!'" He smiled as if what I said meant a great deal of information, but it's true I was never any good at arch— Oh! I was never any good at archery! But how could I just pluck that information from my head? Oh! I've remembered something! I really have!

"Oh! Murtagh I remembered something!" I yelled, without thinking I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. I couldn't believe it, I really have remembered something, I don't care that it is something as insignificant as knowing I could never shoot an arrow. I still remembered something! "Thank you!"

Regaining my composure, I realised of the position I was in and I laughed awkwardly, released my grip and pulled away feeling a slight heat form in my cheeks. Murtagh smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"What are you thanking me for?" He asked, "You remembered it yourself, not me."

"Yes, but, I was being too foolish and upset because I couldn't shoot that blasted arrow that I didn't hear my own words." I laughed, "I would have surely overlooked it if you hadn't have said something."

"It would seem that way," he said, holding out his hand for the bow I was holding. "Let me show you."

For the next hour, maybe more, Murtagh tutored me in most aspects of archery. It seemed that he wasn't just a skilled swordsman but a skilled archer too; he could hit the bulls-eye almost every time dead in the centre, whereas I almost always missed. This was due to the fact that my posture was almost always too stiff, or I was aiming to low or two high, or I wasn't paying attention to the wind patterns that directed my arrow. I was impressed with Murtagh's patience; he never sighed, or yelled at my incompetence to shoot a good arrow. I knew that if another would have been tutoring me they would have certainly sighed, or yelled, or even gave up on me all together. But Murtagh didn't, why?

"Face it, Murtagh." I said disappointedly as yet another arrow missed the target, "I'm useless."

"You're not useless, Enya." He reasoned, picking up the bow that I had flung to the floor in frustration. "You're just inexperienced, how do you think I got to be such an accomplished swordsman?"

"Trickery and dishonourable tactics?" I say jokingly, taking the bow back from him and knocking another arrow. I pull back the string with two fingers my eyes flickering between the target and Murtagh's unwavering gaze.

"Relax," He said, "You're too stiff."

I sigh and roll my shoulders trying to relax as I was commanded to do. Then without hesitation I released the string. Closing my eyes as it whistled away from the bow I only opened it when a dull thud met my ears. Opening my eyes I laughed at the sight, again I had completely missed the target but the arrow head had burrowed itself into a tree some way behind the target.

"Well, at least you hit something." Smiled Murtagh appraisingly.

"Master Murtagh!" The call came from a small pageboy running quickly across the side of the field towards us. He bent his head low, which I thought was a little strange, before continuing. "King Galbatorix requests you're presence at this evening's meal."

Murtagh nodded at the request and the small boy hurried back off along the field towards the castle. I wonder how a boy this small had been asked to serve in Galbatorix's court, for he surely couldn't be more than twelve years old. Being requested at such a young age is awful he should be out playing or with his family, unless of course his family are already here or are no more. It was then that what the boy said registered in my ears, 'evening's meal,' I must be missing my kitchen duty. Slinging my bow over my shoulder, I hurried to retrieve my arrows.

"I have to get to kitchen duty," I said to Murtagh as I returned, "Thank you for the lesson. I appreciate it."

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asked, he immediately brought his hand up to his face as if to slam it over his mouth to block the words; he stopped however and brushed the hair from his face.

"Of course, perhaps tomorrow I may hit the target." I smile, throwing him a wave as I scamper back over the horizon to the kitchens.

* * *

The kitchens were already terribly busy when I arrived; the servants were rushing about cutting vegetables and cooking different meats that all smelt foreign to my nose. I washed my hands and pulled on a white (although brown with dirt) apron before tucking my hair into my clothes. I was stopped suddenly by the head cook, she stepped in front of me her hands on her hips a stern glare on her wrinkled face.

"What do you think you're doing, Girl?" She snapped, "You're on serving duty tonight."

I pulled the apron back over my head and hung it up, pulling my hair out of the back of my tunic the elderly woman totted at me and pinched a strip of my clothing inbetween her fingers, before dusting her hands off.

"You cannot serve in this," She scolded, hurrying to the cupboard on the far side of the kitchen and pulling out a blue gown that the other servers wore. "Take this and go bathe, be quick about it, we are expected to serve this in an hour." With that she scuttled out of the kitchen muttering about how on earth Galbatorix expected her to serve a meal of this proportion with such late notice.

I hurried from the kitchen, taking the servants route through the castle to the female washrooms in the south side of the castle. Once there I shut the door and filled the bath with heated water that was warming on the fire, I then stripped down and sank into the bath. I had only ever been to the washroom for a bath once, it was quiet and brighter than some of the other rooms that I had been to. A large window opened out into a balcony that overlooked the forest. I scrubbed the dirt from my body and swilled my hair through before getting out and drying myself quickly. The blue gown was made of heavy fabric, it came low just touching the floor so I was able to still wear my boots underneath. I sat on a stool by the fire and dried my hair before platting it so it came down my back. After buttoning up my gown and tying the laces of my boots I scurried back down to the kitchens for serving duty.

* * *

_Well then guys, what do you think of Ella's new name? Well non permenant/permenant name i havent decided whether she should keep it yet. _

_Anyway, i liked writing this chapter, my music helps me alot when i write, so the inspiration for this chapter was To Be Loved by The Script. Maybe if i listen to sad songs the chapters will turn out that way also, but we'll have to wait and see. _

* * *

_Ella/Enya: When do i get to here more of this Galbatorix bloke? I havent seen head nor tail of him in six days!_

_Author: Patience, you are serving for him next time._

_Ella/Enya: You're going to make a meal out of this aren't you? Well at least i can pull faces at Murtagh if i get bored. _

_Murtagh: Hey! I'm in an audience with the King, you can't just pull faces at me whenever you like!_

_Ella/Enya: Oh don't be such a worrywart! You're just scared you'll get caught and he'll put you on kitchen duty or something stupid._

_Murtagh: I am NOT being a worrywort! I'm worried you'll get caught and he'll banish you or something. _

_Author: Will you two lovebirds stop it already_

_Ella/Enya&Murtagh: WE ARE NOT LOVEBIRDS *hmphh* _


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